Game Over
by ellemarchen
Summary: From the beginning until the end, it had been a game. It was inevitable that there would eventually be a winner.


Fandom: Naruto  
Title: Game Over  
Author: hana-akira AKA rurichi  
Genre: General, Tragedy  
Character: Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama  
Rating: 17+  
Warning: OOC, doesn't-really-follow-Canon  
Prompt: The inevitable end of a doomed relationship.  
Summary: From the beginning until the end, it had been a game. It was inevitable that there would eventually be a winner.

A/N: So barely there and blink and you'll miss it HashiramaxMadara. It's more like fascination, really. Anyway, it's supposed to be about where Hashirama defeats Madara at the Valley of the End and the progression that led up to it. Lots of grammatical errors, but who gives a shit?

—

**GAME OVER**

The first time Senju Hashirama catches Uchiha Madara's eyes is when he's seventeen years old. Madara had been running, running like the wind as he threaded through the forest and past the trees, jumping on the branches with his eyes darting from side to side and back to the front again. He himself had simply been in the area and it was only coincidence that they had saw each other as Madara was running away from bandits.

It's just a quick glance, a sudden meeting of the eyes between two strangers before one of them is leaving just as fast as they came, but it's in this moment that Hashirama knows he'll chase after Madara for the rest of his life. The other does not stop and Hashirama does not stop him.

He's young, both of them are, and he doesn't even know the other's name, but Hashirama already has a plan of how he's going to be able to meet the other dark-haired male in the near future. He's not worried at all about the other dying even when a group of thirteen bandits go in the direction that the other male had been going because he knows that they'll meet again. Whether it'll be tomorrow or years later, though, is the question, but it doesn't matter to him as long as their paths cross the each other's.

Hashirama walks away smiling in contentment, a goal of becoming the strongest gradually forming in his head to catch the obsidian-eyed one's attention, and in the distance, a multitude of slashing and screams rip through the air in agony and pain with the scent of the summer rain wafting through the air.

—

The second time Senju Hashirama's and Uchiha Madara's eyes meet is when Hashirama is twenty years old and they're on a battlefield on opposing sides. They don't speak, just like last time, but they exchange blows and clash against each other like oil and water. Three years and both know this is a meeting in coming even if only one of them was actually actively seeking the other.

In the time before his first glimpse and his second glimpse, Hashirama has sought any and all information on the dark-haired one he saw in passing. Finding Madara's name was easy enough to obtain.

It's actually finding him that really isn't.

Uchiha Madara, compared to his other Uchiha counterparts, is, in an actual sense, a true ninja. Mercenary and covert, he literally fought like a hired assassin while the rest of his family blatantly flashed ninjutsu and everything else they had in broad daylight. The only reason his name had even been known was because of hiring purposes, and even then, that hadn't been the actual name most people knew him by.

_Wind_. Or, rather, the _Night Wind_. So swift and wild that none could ever hope to actually capture him unless he let himself be. People pursue him and he flees constantly so that none will find him. Because of his dark hair, when Madara runs, he was a literal black blur and the only time anyone could actually see him was if he actually slowed his speed down. He was known for other things—his grace, his beauty, his power—but it was his speed that no one could catch up to which caught the attention of everyone's eyes. That, and the fact that a Senju was actively seeking him clinched it.

If there was a sighting of Madara reported, Hashirama was the first one there—no matter how far away he was or even if the report had actually been for him or not, he was there. Madara's lack of appearances only served to make Hashirama more determined, the glimpses of dark hair swaying swiftly away more persistent. Hashirama chased after the mere rumor of Madara's presence and wherever Madara went, Hashirama followed.

Their eyes meet, longer than last time, before Madara leaves again by running with the wind, his steps light and airy. With the battle over, Hashirama does not stop him and the falling leaves of autumn in the fading sunlight promise that they'll meet once again in the near future, glinting like the dying embers of a phoenix's fire.

—

The third time that Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara locks eyes with each other is when Hashirama is twenty-three years old and the strongest man alive in all the nations. Six years of obsessive hunting and this is the result: The hunter and the hunted finally meeting face to face with no one between them, one with a complacent and smiling face while the other is tense with no expression whatsoever.

Snow falls lightly around them as the winter sky above them darkens and neither of them speaks even though it is obvious in Madara's eyes that he wants to question what Hashirama plans to do with him now.

Hashirama has, after all, finally caught up to Madara. Their game of cat and mouse was coming to an end and it was obvious from the start exactly who would win. Madara had only been taught to survive. Hashirama had always been taught to win and he intended to do just that. And although Madara had teased and tantalized Hashirama, he had never really tried to win the game they played. Hashirama had, on the other hand, strived to win at all costs, persevering and unrelenting in his chase after Madara.

A question is thrown out from Hashirama's lips as his smile widens, a strange and almost dark emotion evident in his eyes.

"Let's play a game."

And the game is brought to a whole new level and Madara struggles to keep his composure from this obvious twist of events, even though now more than ever he wants to run for his life and not look back.

There's a saying that Hashirama has heard before that the third time's the charm.

They were right.

—

Their game continues on, their game of, "Catch me if you can, honey," and both play it just like how they played it before and it's still the same but still somehow different. Madara is still the one who's doing the running and Hashirama is still the one who's doing the chasing, but sometimes instead of Madara being able to escape like he's a ghost or a wisp of air, Hashirama is able to catch him and when he does, the expression on his face is akin to that of a cat who has caught the canary.

When Hashirama catches Madara, it is always with the former being slightly on top of the other—not so much that he's actually on top of Madara, but enough to show that he's the one who has won this time around. Madara will be beneath him, keeping his breathing steady, yet his heart will be beating frantically due to the fact that Hashirama is able to effectively trap him.

It's a hard blow to Madara for him to know that he can die any moment now. It's an even harder blow to him that the only reason he isn't is because Hashirama doesn't exactly consider him a threat.

Hashirama plays with him like one would a pet and he pets him like one, too. The scratching behind the ears, the brushing of his hair… It takes all of Madara's self-control to not growl at Hashirama when he loses because he knows that if he does, the smile on Hashirama's face will simply widen and the light in his eyes would just brighten with the same pleasure and reverence they had when they first met.

Hashirama smiles enigmatically as he brushes the younger man's dark hair aside, his elbows propped up, with them next to each other in a setting almost like of two forbidden lovers having a quiet time together. Which it definitely wasn't, no matter how many times this situation happens.

"Won't you play with me?" Hashirama asks lightly like he's asking for a cup of tea and Madara face contorts into an animalistic snarl. A laugh bubbles out of Hashirama's throat and the sunlight rests on them with warmth and radiance like a warm blanket.

A spring's breeze gently passes through and the afternoon is spent lazing in the sun and the field of flowers all around them.

—

The game they play brings them everywhere, from dry and arid deserts to lush and fresh forests to oceans dark and deep. The places Madara choose to go to are always different and he never chooses the same place twice, not even years later when it seems like they've literally gone to every place and every corner of the world.

It's the same game they play every time and it never changes even though by now both should have gotten bored of the same routine over and over again. Because underneath the different scenery and terrains, underneath the different methods Madara used to escape, it was, ultimately, the same game over and over again.

Yet, Hashirama wanted to play. Not for the game itself, but rather for the other player that would play against him. He'd played many games before—games which involved singing, running, killing—and he's played them with all different kinds of people. Men who only wanted money, women who had no shame, children who literally actually thought the whole thing was only a game, and many more that he's lost count of over the years and time he's been alive.

There is only one player Senju Hashirama wants to play against and that is Uchiha Madara himself. Quiet and secret Madara, who would play only one game only. The game should have gotten boring, should have become tedious and dull after the thirty-sixth time they played it, but it doesn't because Madara makes him think and actually force him to use effort to find the other. The patterns of Madara's running and hiding are unpredictable, like a wild animal's, and he constantly has to double-back and recheck his steps to make sure he didn't do something wrong because one misstep could lead him back to square one.

They play hide-and-seek, and ready or not, Hashirama will always come after Madara because Madara is a maze, a puzzle that has a beginning but never seems to have an end and Hashirama will happily let himself get lost in it if it meant he'll get another glimpse of the dark and handsome stranger he had met years ago in a summer of gentle rain.

Hashirama trails after Madara like a constant shadow and in Madara's heart, a very small part, he is afraid that soon Hashirama will overshadow him and consume him whole.

—

The war that's all around them involves them and so they have to resolve and put their game to the side. They fight against the other, but eventually make peace and their Clans with others create a village together: Konohagakure no Sato(1). They don't agree, though, Hashirama and Madara, and soon Madara starts running again and Hashirama chases after him as a reaction to Madara's action.

Madara hides and Hashirama seeks and it's the game all over again. They both enjoy it; Hashirama for the thrill of the hunt, Madara for the fact that someone actually _played_ with him, and both love it in their own way. Eventually, though, the game had to end, and with it, a winner had to be chosen.

It was obvious from the start exactly who would win. But no one ever said it would be Hashirama who would be the winner. Because although Madara would be sought after, chased after, and followed and be caught, no one ever said it would be Madara who would be lying broken on the floor in the end.

Hashirama was taught to win. But Madara was taught to survive. And that was what made the difference in the end.

—

The last time Senju Hashirama's and Uchiha Madara's eyes look into the other's is when Hashirama is thirty years old and Madara is dying in a pool of his own blood. Weapons pierce Madara's skin, hacking and coughing of blood coming out of his throat like a never-ending river.

The game had to end, but Hashirama doesn't understand at all why it had to end like _this_. So he asks.

"It was supposed to be a game, Madara. It was supposed to be fun. So why…?" Did he sound as desperate as he felt? He felt like he was grasping at straws or trying to cup water in his hands in which the water was slipping through, anyway, and he felt like he was sinking in quicksand.

Madara laughs, blood strewn all over his bloodied body and the whole ground around him and under him.

"In the end, does it really matter? It was just a game, after all." He laughs again and he smiles a beautiful, tragic smile—beautiful because it's the first genuine smile Hashirama has ever seen on the other's face and tragic because that was what the other's life was the whole time he was alive, even when he was playing the game.

Madara is a shell of who he previously was, nothing at all like the fast and furious glory he was now that he was lying on the ground bleeding to his death. So Hashirama asks again, this time mentioning the Uchiha Clan. Madara snarls and if it weren't for the fact that moving now would only lead faster to his death, he would have leapt at Hashirama and tore him apart from limb to limb.

"_Nothing_ will make up for this slight that you have done to me. For you taking them away with your false promises. And when they die from the inside, it will their payment, for being fooled so easily." He is vicious and he is condescending, but beneath his harsh tone is melancholy and despair, even as he curses Hashirama to the deepest and darkest parts of Hell.

"I curse you, Senju Hashirama. I _**curse**_ you. May you live forever, may you live in peace; and may you bury your children in the near future, until you've paid for all what you have done to _me_." Madara curses and he hates and Hashirama has no idea at all what to do with his idol, the one he has pursued for so long, dying and bleeding before him. And he asks a third time, hoping beyond hope that he's given an answer of some sort that he can understand.

They say third time's the charm, but in truth, it's really not.

"I will die and you will live. Was that not how it was supposed to end?" A lop-sided smile, a hollow laugh on the dying man's lips. The blood on the ground turns darker, a dark red that looks almost black, and the moon above them overshadows them in all of its bloody, crimson bright full moon glory and Hashirama hates it.

Those lips move again, pale and crimson stains marring its otherwise ethereal beauty, "Game over. You win."

Hashirama stares at the black-haired man as the man draws his last breath, ruby-colored eyes never to open again. And he wonders, then, who really was the winner. Because he may have lived and told the tale, but it had been Madara who already knew how it would end long ago, before the game had even started. Madara had known and had still charged on valiantly to his death, still playing the game even after he had lost.

Senju Hashirama is thirty years old when he wins the game Madara and he had played since they had met, but it doesn't feel like he's won at all. Madara lies dead, he himself severely injured, and he doesn't understand at all why the game had to end this way.

He struggles to keep his composure and it's in this moment where there are bloodstains everywhere and a bleeding moon hanging above them that Hashirama knows that even though Madara was hunted, pursued, and eventually caught that it didn't mean he would be the one lying wrecked and wretched in the end. That it would be him on the ground defeated.

From the beginning until the end, it had been a game. It was inevitable that there would eventually be a winner. No one ever said it would be Hashirama. And no one ever said it would be Madara who would be broken beyond all repair.

Madara had run and Hashirama had gone after him as though Madara was his God and he was his worshipper. And soon, he too will fall like his God.

**CONTINUE?**

—

A/N: Footnotes ahoy!

(1) "Konohagakure no Sato" literally means "Village Hidden in the Leaves" and is one of the five great ninja villages that's situated in the "Land of Fire", that is, "Hi no Kuni".


End file.
